Ark 11 Episode 12: In the Den of Lions
With the walls down, it was the perfect time for Eleanoire to escape the captivity of the Yakuza. But from the freezer she wound up in the frying pan- the den of the Street Raion and their enigmatic, rather bipolar leader. 'Participants ' Eleanoire , "Mufasa" 'In the Den of Lions' ' Repulsive': She could see what was going on outside the hotels window, the streets suddenly seemed bare. There was no TV in the room or no interaction with the outside world, and Mufasa hadn't told her what was doing on yesterday. Maybe she had slept threw a minor earth quake , the abandoned area making her think suspiciously. Keyth hadn't been back for three days now, she didn't even bother keeping the chain on the bed anymore, moving about the hotel room freely. Having been living off of packet and tinned food, along with the occasional bag of chips , she'd clearly had enough of this nonscence. Maybe this time he really had been killed. Good, he deserved everything coming to him. Taking her bag out from under the bed and lifted Keyos matress, pulling out two wads of cash and placing them there also. If she was running from him she would take what she wanted, she had noticed them before but didn't dare take them incase he noticed whilst she was still in his custordy. Pulling her coat over her arms and buttoning it up so it covered her throat, hiding the collar. She followed the door out and down the hall, heading out onto the currently dangerous streets of D1. Diversity: Mufasa had heard that Keyth Tasanagi was in D1, but not watching over Eleanoire. She was alone and barely watched as monsters were breaking into the city. The black Toyota Tundra drove around the city block, once, then twice. He peered out of darkly tinted windows and the grill of his truck was stained with a bit of blood where he'd purposefully ran over something obviously inhuman. But alas he came to a stop when he saw a familiar shapely figure slipping out into the night. He put the truck into park and rolled down the window, calling out firmly enough to be heard and for her to know immediately that he was dead serious. "Eleanoire." He set his dark coffee-colored eyes upon her. He curled his callous fingers, his scarred arm visible under the street lamp's light. "Get in. It's not safe out here tonight." Repulsive: It seemed as soon as she left the building a car pulled up infront of her, feeling once more as though cameras were everywhere and watching her every move. She pulled her bags off of her back and opened the pasanger seat, chucking the rucksack into the foot space and hoisting herself once more up into the car. "What happening now? Whos trying to kill/steal from/kidnap me now?" Pulling her seatbelt over her torso and buckling down beside her hip. "I've got everything I need and I don't plan on going back.. Keyth hasn't been back for three days now, i'm not going to sit and pait for him to appear and bark orders at me. You can take me in, or you can leave me out here. But the second option would leave you at a disadvntage, when Keyth finds me i'll surely be dead." Diversity: "Don't worry." Mufasa had already begun to drive away once she was buckled in. "You're going to be staying with me, and when you go out from now on, I want you to go out with someone or myself preferably. You..." The tall dark man glanced over at her, the shadows and distant street lamp lights cutting into his windshield and playing across the hard, masculine angles of his face. "You haven't heard have you?" He fixated his fingers around the wheel and turned. They were headed towards the orphanage. The man, clad in a gray tank top with white bleach stains on the side and black jeans, was quiet for a moment. The light continued to etch itself across him every so often, dipping through his hollowed black and white ear plugs, shining against his short fade-cut, and glittering off of the diamonds on his watch. "The wall came down." He said. "And ever since it has, mutants have been coming in. Beasts. Mindless things." He glanced over to her as he pulled the truck around back and parked it. There were his men out patrolling as he got out and came around to open her door. Chivalrous? Or something else? Once she got out he'd walk with her inside, that same condemned building look appearing abandoned and desolate until you got so far in where the interior was remodeled as an elaborate labyrinth of a gang bunker. "They're killing people. Mercilessly. Tasanagi didn't give a fuck what happened to you. In another day, they would've been coming through your hotel door and windows, hungry for a docile victim that was locked in one spot." The heavy bunker door shut behind him and they made way towards the living room, but this time he turned and went down a set of steps that was revealed via a latch in the floor. As he went down, it revealed a game room with a large TV and a bunch of men playing Call of Duty. But on the other side a door lead to a hallway with several turns, and at the end of it was another door. He opened it and it revealed a dark bedroom of sorts. It looked half like a work-out area, with man's things strewn about. Boxers on the floor by the bed, a hamper of clean folded clothes, work-out equipment under the stairs, and a few magazines by the bedside that portrayed curvy women within. "Up the stairs is your room." He said. "You can come down here to use my bathroom-" He gestured to the second door in his room's level, "-and you'll be safe. As soon as I heard about the wall, I was preparin'. I had some of my men wipe your apartment out. I think we got a good bit of your posters upstairs, and your bed. Marisol cleaned your sheets and mattress for you." He turned and looked back down at her in the dim light, his eyes appearing like total shadows and his expression without smile or smirk. His next words were serious. He was asking her one final time, the only time he'd ask again. "Are you going to stay?" Repulsive: She tilted her head to one side as he moved around the car and opened the door for her, not having said much during the ride about the wall coming down, more interested in looking out the window of the car to see if she could spot one. Having a sheltered life she didn't know all to much about what was outside the wall. She hopped out of the vehicle as he opened the door for her, using his shoulder to lower herself down without a stumble, pulling her bag out after her. As they moved about the maze of a home she attempted to keep track in her mind as to where she was going, but after going threw just three doors she was lost. So many different turnings and doors made her head scrambled, she'd have plenty of time to figure it out later though. "So, what's the plans for keeping the new invaders out? Other than what I saw out front." Having seen people smoke in the living room the first time she was here she assumed she was able to smoke throughout the house, sparking up a cigerette as they entered his room. "You're very ... Organised. " She half expected to be staying on a couch in one of the communal rooms, so as he lead her into his own room she looked at him in a rather confused manor, almost questioning his agenda, quickly being reasured by the mention of the upstairs room. "You washed my bed?" Not bothering to question why he had been to her appartment again in the first place, the idea of having fresh bedding was the best news she'd had all week. The cleaners hadn't been allowed in to clean, if they came in to see a woman chained to a bed post things could of gotten a little out of hand. Her good mood quickly returning to nuteral as his expression turned serious, she wouldn't of asked him to take her in if she didn't plan on staying. "For now.. I think it's best we see how things go. You might find me unbareable after a couple days.." Diversity: "Unbearable." He said it so grimly, but then his smile cracked across his face, revealing white teeth as he let out a deep and yet hearty laugh. "I doubt you will be unbearable compared to the other things I've been through squirrel." She was an interesting one, he thought. But as he turned away from her he'd come towards his door that lead back into the labyrinth. "You can go upstairs and rest now if you like. Marisol's cooked dinner though, despite how late it is. If you want to eat..." He said the last bit in a bit of a mocking tone, a lilt of humor on his voice from the last time where she denied hunger yet ate on the way over. He'd open the door and continue on then, keeping his gait slow and steady in case she wanted to tag along back upstairs to the living room and kitchen area. Repulsive: Squirrel... A name that was definatly not growing on her. It made her face shrivel into a glare each time it was said, part of her wanting to smack him upside the head for it, even though she probably couldn't reach. "I think i'd rather settle upstairs for a little while.. See what my clean sheets are like, and what posters your men chose to pick up.." Forcing her back up onto her shoulder once more she lifted herself up the stairs, chucking her bag on the bed and begun unpacking her things, pulling out the two larger wads of cash and begun counting them, there was easily 10 grand within her hands. Tomorrow, if things were cleared up on the streets, she would treat herself to some new things, things she had lost in her eviction, and some luxaries that she could now afford. Diversity: It was the same night that Eleanoire had been brought to the Street Raion hideout. She'd curled up and went to sleep fairly soon after having arrived. Perhaps she missed her bed. He was sure of that actually- he'd even popped in a time or two to see her squeezing a stuffed duck that he'd randomly decided to bring along. /This investment is a strange one/, Mufasa thought in that moment. /But Eleanoire has great promise/... It was about two thirty in the morning, and he'd finally retreated to his room at last. She'd hear the water run downstairs below her room- things he'd not thought about. The shower flooded him with hot water that steamed off of his dark, smooth, and greatly scarred skin as he washed up. He brushed his teeth and shaved all but his goatee once out, sliding on a pair of boxers and a set of black jogging pants that came to his knees due to his long legged nature. He walked into his bedroom, glancing around. Porn magazines were tucked under the bed, and he thought about it. He'd turned down a free romp from one of the girls they associate with because he knew she was loud- and he didn't want to wake Eleanoire. His dark eyes were shadowed by the dim light in his room as he moved behind the stairwell to take out a heavy hanging punching bag with a hook on the end of its rope. Reaching up he hooked it on a small ring that hung from the ceiling, before sank back. He slid his bare foot back as he began to thrust out a punch. The bag emanated a soft puff of dust when his fist hit it roughly, only before he hit it again, then twice more. He rolled his head side to side. Mufasa rarely slept, and he didn't even think about his shower waking her up. Soon he was unleashing a barrage of quick, martial arts styled moves along the bag. Over and over, attacking with almost no relent. Repulsive: Stirred in her sleep from the noises that were coming from down below, rolling about in her freshly cleaned sheets before fully sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, the stuffed animal tucked under her arms as she yawned, thinking to herself it was probably lunch time and she'd over slept. She looked at the alarm clock on her dresser , blinking a couple times to make sure it was correct. It was far to early to be getting up. She rolled herself onto her stomach and burried her head back into her pillow in attempt to drain the noise out, quickly realizing because she had went to sleep early she was now no longer tired. She murred and spun herself round so her feet was touching the ground, pulling her jeans that was left in a screwed up pile on the floor back up her legs, followed by pulling her sweater over her head, it being cold after having left the comfort of her bed. Then becoming startled by the quick thumping sounds coming from bellow her, part of her didn't want to bother him, but it was early morning.. And people SHOULD be sleeping. She took up Duckie by its fin and made her way down the stairs, her hair was a mess, her sweater was falling off of her, making her look almost childish. Her fist coming up once more to rub at her sleepy eyes. "Do you know what time it is?" Her tone was low , but at the same time serious. Diversity: Mufasa had eliminated the thoughts of everything else. He thought of attacking the Yakuza. He thought of one day in the far away future showing the KPD that he was alive and destroying them for his abandonment. He'd brought his guard down long enough that he didn't even hear her come down stairs until he turned and spotted her. He breathed deeply as he brushed his hands over his head, his short shaven hair rough against his palms as he nodded. "Shit." He mumbled. "I'm not used to anyone staying the night or being above me." He gestured up to her room. Mufasa's dark eyes scanned her, falling from her head down to her feet and back. She was a thick, curvy girl, she had the kind of curves you got hold onto. He brought his eyes away as he reached out and touched the swinging punching bag to still it. "If you want you can head back up. I'll be quiet." He turned and clenched a fist to hit the punching bag again but realized even that was going to make noise. He dropped his hand slowly and he turned back to face her, a thin sheen of moisture from the shower still glistening over the hard brickwork of his taut and musculed abs. "If not..." Mufasa glanced down at her. "You can stay up with me. I might make a run soon to get some shit for the gang." Repulsive: Blinked several times again, her eyes ajusting to the lighting of the room slowly, his dark figure somewhat blending into the shadowy room. "I went to bed early, and now i'm not tired.." Reminding him that she had skipped dinner. "Is there any food around?" Obviously having smoked alot before bed, she woke up still a little high and disorientated, aswell as having severe munchies. "I understand.." She didn't want him to even have the slightest chance of a reason to kick her out, she no longer had anywhere to go. "Also.. Could you do anything about this.." She lifted the back of her hair and exposed the collar that he already knew lay around her throat. "It is getting rather uncomfortable." Making it clear she was taking up his offer on staying up threw the night and going out to be nosey and learn more about the establishment. "What kind of shit for the gang?" She had never been one to carry a weapon, but knowing being here she wouldn't have a chioce to use them, she made an effort to make herself more knowledgable about the subject. Diversity: Mufasa watched her as he turned and began towards her. "There's plenty of food. We'll get it in a minute." She had revealed to him the collar, and he no longer had a use for it. He was going to keep her under his watch from now on, so the whole concept was despicable. Then again- if it was /his/ collar on her it would be different. But it wasn't, it was someone else's. And it wouldn't be there at all for long. He reached up and his rough, calloused digits grazed the side of her neck as he pushed her hair back and away from her neck. "I'll get it off." He said in a low, deep tone. The moment she would let him he'd slide his fingers into the sides of the collar, which would make the metal and finger mixture bite into her throat for a few seconds. He'd start pulling apart and she'd heard the metal wane and crack. It screeched as the clasp and lock was being forced to bend. Then... after a moment, POP! The metal broke and his arms were pulled away from her fast, small pieces of broken collar being tossed to the sides as he freed her from the Yakuza collar. He opened his hands and let the last pieces fall to the floor. "Freed." He said as he turned and move towards the door. "Come if you're hungry." He said... Mufasa had lead her back through the basement halls and up to the first floor living room and conjoined kitchen. It was dark, most of the people having gone to bed as he flicked on a set of row lights atop the bar counter and stove that barely lit the kitchen and cast the living room over in warm, dim yellow glows. "I've got to pick up a shipment of weapons... So what would you like to eat?" He stepped around the counter, his bare feet fairly quiet against the floor. In better lighting she would see that his lower legs and feet were as heavily, horribly scarred as his lower arms and hands. "There's..." He laughed warmly and stepped aside, gesturing into the bright pale light of the filled fridge. "A lot actually. C'mover here and pick." There was indeed one hell of a selection. Deli meat, vegetables, condiments, tea and sodas, fruit juices, milk, salad mix and dressings, a container of thick leftover hamburgers from the grill, and also some chicken mushroom alfredo leftovers. Cereal was on the counter along with garlic bread, regular bread, and french bread. Fruit rested in a hanging hammock by the bar counter, and if she wandered further she'd probably find even more things. Repulsive: "Mmmf..." She smiled lightly at the thought of foot, tilting her head down so he could get to her throat easier, grimacing as his fingers slid down the gap between the metal and her neck, forcing his knuckles into her flesh, his tensing making his fingers shake, wincing further at the sound of the collar snapping, almost making her jump. She didn't open her eyes again and lift her head up untill she heard the peices of metal clash down against the floor. She followed him out into the hall way, once more getting a little lost in the maze that was her new home. "Anything interesting in this pick up? Anything new..?" Again following him around to the fridge, duck still clenched in her hand , feeling somewhat like a sheep, she didn't like having to be dependant on people, she was used to doing things by herself. She also didn't like change. "I just want toast.. Regular toast, maybe with a little jam if there is any?" She lifted herself up onto one of the counter tops to sit down, cooking at this time would of woken people up, and she was not as inconsiderate as he was~ So she decided on something that was easy with minimul noise. She lifted one hand up to her neck, feeling it lightly. Her head didn't feel as heavy, and she could click her neck properly, it felt good to have it off. Diversity: The dark gang leader laughed and pulled out two types of jam and sat them on the counter then gestured towards the toaster. "Would you like to do it yourself as well?" If she said yes he'd let her, and if not he would move to fix her toast for her. Mufasa when done, or whenever she was done, would move into the living room and kick his feet up, reclining in one of the massive leather sofas as he folded his arms behind his head. "An assortment of things. Our original order is... changing, now that the walls are down. I'm thinking of investing in something big and heavy. A mass defense kind of weapon." He shrugged, it all depended on funds honestly. "I think the guy won't be up right now. But later I may go. Would you be interested in joining me for an arms deal like that?" He glanced over at her, his expression fit for his gaunt, angular, and masculine face as he kept his dark eyes upon her. "You might even see something you like there. It'd be good for you to be armed right now with all the shit going down." Repulsive: She watched him pull the two types of jam out from one of the cupboards, pulling herself down from the counter and taking up the packaged pre-sliced white bread, pulling out two slices and moving over to the toaster, spreading a thin layer of one of the jams across it and placing it on one of the plates that was on the drying rack beside the sink, not giving him a chance to do it for her. "I've never weilded a weapon before." Speaking honestly as she followed him into the living room, sitting down across the room from him as she continued to indulge herself in her quickly prepared meal. "I havn't ever shot a gun either, when I first met Keyth he gave me a pistol, but I never had reason to use it, but I guess with everything currently going on it would be best to learn." The ideas of mutant roaming around the streets absentmindedly scared her, more than it should. She didn't even know what was behind the wall, she didn't know what types of things were flooding threw the city. "What would you reccomend for a novice?" Diversity: Mufasa chuckled. He had his eyes closed- or so it would seem- as he relaxed. "Hm..." He would rub his hands against the back of his head, shifting his legs as he would stretch and sigh. "I'd probably say a 9-mil. It'll be a good starter for you." He opened his eyes slowly. "I'll get you used to taking it apart, an' putting it back together. Loading, reloading, unloading. Might get you to boxing a little too, workin' out with me. Then I'll upgrade you to better shit as you move on up." He tilted his head and would extend one arm, dropping it on his lap. "Sound good to you? And how's your toast?" Repulsive: She'd pull one let over the other and rest the plate ontop of her knees, trying to balance it whilst placing duckie on the arm of the chair, pulling the toasted bread into small bite size peices with her finger tips. "A 9 mill?" She didn't know what that ment.. That could of ment a cannon for all she knew. "Boxing? " The idea repulsed her, she was very lazy.. And enoyed doing things with the least amount of effort involved. But she would probably have to do some training whilst she was here. "I can't even push you over, how am I supposed to box?" Made a habbit not to talk with her mouth full, having to take small breaks between talking to finish what she was eating. "The toast? It takes like.. Toast?" She was still waking up, and this was far to much of an interlectual convisation to be having at this time of the morning. Diversity: "Ha! That's good. Glad you enjoy the toast." He slowly rose up as she would eat. He towered over her, a dark testament of muscle and machinery as he would begin walking towards the bar. He turned around and would wave his hand. "How are you supposed to /box/?" Mufasa smirked darkly. He would hold out his hands, curling his fingers into fists one digit at a time, then unraveling them and hanging them by his sides. "How about you come find out? I might quit calling you squirrel, and it'll help you sleep." He let his eyes drift across her form. While attractive, he was more-so slowly absorbing what he believed to be her potential (or really lack thereof) to learn. He'd then swing by the fridge, grabbing a bottle of V8 juice, and heading back towards his basement room wondering if she'd tag behind or wander the basement floor halls until she found him in his room. Repulsive: "Toast is toast..." She let her head sink into her shoulders as he stood up again to his full height , he towered over her , and it was rather intimidating, part of her feared him and she still didn't trust him fully. Watching him move back into the kitchen she nodded in responce, this should be interesting, her punch probably wouldn't even make the bag move. She placed the plate by the sink whilst he moved to the fridge, taking the remaining slice of toast with her. If she didn't follow him she would surely find herself lost. "I don't understand why you call me squirrel in the first place... I don't have a bushy tail.. And the idea of me attempting to climb a tree is laughable. I don't like nuts either.." She was babbling as she followed after him back down into the basement. Diversity: As she began a speel about why she wasn't fit for his nickname, he would begin to laugh. It was a warm, deep sound as it vibrated through his chest and radiated into a hearty sound. He stepped aside, shirtless and barefoot as he would glance over to her and gesture to the bag. "Hit it. However you like." He said. Mufasa would wait, and when she did strike it with the hand not holding Duckie, he'd shake his head. "Wrong. I'm going to send you to bed tonigt, knowing how to punch without breaking that delicate wrist of yours." He stepped behind her then came to her side where she was throwing the fist. He unraveled his fingers and pulled her arm into his hand. He smoothed his hand from her elbow down to her wrist, where he purposefully shifted her fist so that it was set right. He then took her arm with both hands- rather surprisingly gentle- and guided her arm slowly to the bag until she'd feel her knuckles connect lightly. He then pulled her arm back into a proper 'drawn back' posture. "Now hit it. Don't move your fist from where I've shown you to set it. Hit the bag, don't use all your force." He glanced to her eyes, staring down at her with the basement smelling of his shower gel as he then looked to her fist to see if she'd do correctly. Repulsive: "I'm not going to bed.. I'll just sleep well tonight. There is no point in trying to sleep now." She extended her arm in a sleepy manor, her fist hitting the bag rather bluntly, as she thought, the bag didn't move. She was half expecting him to start laughing at her. She pulled her arm back down her side only to feel him lift it back up and ajust her posture, setting her fist right. It didn't feel 'right', it felt weird and awkward. How people faught like this was confusing, she flexed her fingers, opening her palms again before setting them back how he showed her, letting him guide it to a certain spot on the bag. She pulled her elbow back, letting her arm bend before throwing another punch, hitting to the left of the spot. She murred, it was already frustrating her, her patience was horrible. She half threw duckie back at him, expecting him to take hold of it and place it somewhere else. Diversity: The moment she threw Duckie at him, he would reach out with frightening speed, clasping onto her throwing arm. He jerked her towards him roughly and pulled her past his body, making sure not to shove her too hard against the wall. He pinned her though, back to the wall with one arm barred over her throat but not pressing enough to hurt her. But he was immovable. "Do you want someone to do this to you again?" He said lowly. "You need patience... I think we'll work on that." He said as he stared at her from only a short few personal inches above and in front of Eleanoire. He stared in her eyes for a long moment, as he began to lower his barred arm. "I'm going to teach you how not to be taken advantage of." Repulsive: She blinked a couple of times as he took ahold of her arm, looking up at him, her body language quickly turning timid. She didn't do well in pressured situations. She grimaced as her back was pressed up against the wall, followed by his arm under her chin, pinning her to the wall by her throat. He could feel her swollow harshly against his limb, her fear for him quickly showing, his actions quickly making it hard for her to look at him in the eye. "Take advantage of me?" She snapped as soon as he pulled his arm away again. "Do you really think i'd let anyone willingly do this to me? I have a bullet wound in my thigh and obvious scars across my face, do you not think I resisted?" She tried to lift herself onto her tip toes, trying to make herself seem taller, failing miserably. Diversity: He blinked and stepped back, before he would glance down (Almost as if he was looking at her crotch). "You still have the wound? Did you ever get the bullet out?" He would look at her as if she wasn't even trying to bristle up at him. He'd speak then in a firm, commanding tone as he would remain standing where he was. "Take off your pants and let me tend it." Mufasa said darkly, locking his eyes with Eleanoire's and waiting to hear her reply. If she had the bullet wound, poor thing would be taking her pants off one way or another. "You can't let wounds fester." Repulsive: Tilted her head, she was still angry at him, and now he was trying to be caring. She wasn't having any of it. "It's fine, i've been with it for a couple months now, it's pretty much healed over. You'll do more damage removing it than leaving it, my limps not even noticable anymore." She moved to the side, moving out from infront of him. "My pants arn't coming off, and I don't have any other clothes with me till I go shopping with the money of got from Keyth." slipping up slightly, she hadn't told him about the 10-15 grand she had taken from him when she left. "I'll sort it myself.." Her stuborness becoming visable again. She still couldn't look him in the eye after he pressed her against the wall. Diversity: He watched her stubborn nature flare up but he was more stubborn than she was. Mufasa was a brick wall, and she was just drywall. She was something he could break through if he needed to. So when she said she'd sort it himself, he moved towards her in a long, serious stride and with one arm he'd sweep his arm aside to keep her from interrupting his next move. Then his other hand dropped, and he pressed it against her left thigh. He pressed his fingers in, squeezing the plush and tender flesh beneath her jeans and moving his palm. She would fight- undoubtably, but he would only let out a fierce, quiet growl. "Don't resist, I'm looking for it." He then moved his hand to her other thigh, his fingertips grazing her innermost thigh as his thumb moved and kneaded the flesh until he found a small knot and perhaps having elicited a wince or gasp from her. "Is this it?" Repulsive: Watching him move towards her, she moved backwards in the oposit direction untill she was once more pressed up against a wall. Her hands moved down in attempt pry his hands from between her legs, a short sharp cry following his pressing as he felt around the tender and taunt flesh, small beads of water forming in the corners of her eyes. It hurt, it wasn't a blunt pain, but a sharp pain that shot all the way up and down her leg each time his fingers grazed it. By the sounds she was making it was probably infected, and she had been to proud to get it looked at. She tried pressing him away from her, but it was no good, she was stuck between a rock and a wall. "Leave it alone!" Almost shreiking at him, it wasn't just the pain that was upsetting her, she was also scared. She had been in similar situations on multiple occasions, each not ending in her own well being. Diversity: "Damn, just..." He shook his head. His hands came up and he grabbed the front of her jeans, unsnapping them, them unzipping them. Mufasa was a bit rough in the process, before he hooked his fingers into the sides of her jeans and jerked them down until they were at her knees. He then barred one arm across her chest and his voice echoed through the room as he boomed a command. "Stay still!" It was a roar, no wonder he went by the nickname of a lion character. He lowered himself to his knees in front of her, which made his face about level with her stomach as he would move his hands over her hips and see the wound. It was definitely infected, and hadn't healed right at all. "This is bad." He said lowly. "That infection could spread through your leg, make it worse before it gets better." He glanced up at her in all seriousness, expecting her to slap him. And if she did- he'd handle it. Mufasa was not a man easily shaken. Repulsive: She grit her teeth together and continued to squirm, making it hard for him to pull the fabric down her legs, but allas not impossible. She looked down at him as he crouched whilst pining her, whimpering in responce to his command. His voice echo'd through the basement, probably waking some of the residents. She continued to grimace as he pulled at her legs and inspected the wound, it was tender and swollon. "I know it's infected, do you not think I know its bad?!" She didn't slap him, but whilst he was lever with her stomach she lifted her good leg, clocking him in the jaw with knee harshly. "Remove your hands from me!" Her blow would be strong enough to knock him back long enough to pull her pants back up around her waist. Diversity: Suddenly he'd feel the emasculating slap and then the knee. He didn't give her the time to pull her pants up as he rose up and pinned her to the wall with his own brute body, slamming his fists into the wall behind her. One on each side of her. BOOM!!!! "What the /fuck/ did I say?!" He said coldly. "I... Am trying to help you." He said coldly. "If I wanted to fuck you, I would've had you on the bed screaming my goddamn name by now." He was frustrated and angry as his door swung open and Marisol- backed by several others- peered in. Marisol by herself walked in as he turned and looked at her and shook his head. "Tau!" She fussed at him and he looked back to Eleanoire. "Time to go back to bed. I'll be in a better mood in the morning... Don't... Don't ever slap me again." He moved his arms and backed up, the others blocking the doorway as he turned and walked out of the room. Marisol looked between them both as she glanced to Elly. "Don't mind him. He's rough, real rough, but he..." She sighed and shook her head, long pitch black hair spilling wildly around her Hispanic features. "Head upstairs... You'll be okay." She whispered. Repulsive: Her eyes widened as he lifted himself up to his full height, her fingers curling into fists either side of her waist, "What the fuck did you say? What did I say! I told you not to! I told you i'd sort it myself and you didn't listern, it's your own fault!" She wasn't going to back down anymore, in a way she did exactly as he asked, didn't let him take advantage of her. Sure it wasn't in the way he wanted, but she made her point clear. She tilted her head towards the door, seeing the small gathering of people, she quickly became flustered, her jeans around her ankles and him forcing her up against the wall. She pulled them back up as soon as he moved back, not taking the time to thank the woman for intervieining, running back upstairs to the room she had been given and shutting the door behind her. The day would be interesting, she didn't know if he would still want her going with him after what had just happened. She moved back into bed, she had left Duckie in his room, but she wasn't going back down there for anything tonight, Duckie would have to stay with him for the night. She pulled the covers up over her head, the sun was starting to rise and she couldn't sleep with light, pulling one of the spare pillows up against herself, letting her mind wander. She was slightly embaressed, the way he talked to her had aroused her, trying her hardest not to let her hand trail between her legs. Category:Ark 11